The Journey of the Watcher Part II The Weavers
by Rosalinde
Summary: Thonolan continues his journey, watching over his brother and Ayla. He encounters more spirits like himself who also watching over the living. Parallels The Mammoth Hunters.
1. Default Chapter

This is the second part of the story, "The Journey of the Watcher." Thonolan continues to follow his brother Jondalar, and is set the task to watch over him and Ayla. Parallels the book, "The Mammoth Hunters" by Jean M. Auel.  
  
I don't own any of the characters; I only steal them for my nefarious writing purposes.  
  
--------------------  
  
The Journey of the Watcher Part II; The Weavers  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The Others  
  
------------  
  
A woman held her arms palm up, "I greet you Thonolan of the Shamudoi, servant of the Mother of all. I am Brazie daughter of the leader of the Aurrochs camp. This is my sister Nalie." She gestured to a young girl staring brazenly up at him. Nalie held her small hands up to the stranger as he turned to her.   
  
Thonolan studied the girls. He was a bit surprised at such stoic greetings for girls so young. Brazie was the elder by perhaps three summers. Her form was one just verging on the blossom of womanhood. He glanced past them when he saw a small movement behind. A third woman ducked her head she seemed to disappear into the background.   
  
Brazie gently took the woman's arm and brought her forward. "And this is Oba, she is Clan." Thonolan stared in surprise as the woman raised her head. She settled her deep brown eyes on him then ducked down quickly. "She's quite shy with strangers."   
  
In that one brief look, Thonolan had taken in her features. She was distinctly and totally clan. Something about her jogged a memory he couldn't quite lay a finger on. Even in the spirit world, she continued to act as a good clan woman, he mused. What was she doing among so many of the Others? The woman came timidly forward then dropped down before his feet. He stared down dumfounded by this new turn of events. Quickly, he reached down and tapped her shoulder.   
  
Oba looked up at the stranger. "This woman would like to thank this man of the Others," she began to motion. "This woman is grateful for you for taking care of the daughter of Creb's hearth. If this woman is worthy of attention, she would make one request." Her arms dropped down nervously.   
  
Thonolan took her arm and pulled her to a standing position. "Oba, you don't need to beg permission from me. I'm not clan."   
  
She furrowed her brow, "yes, Creb made you clan. In the cave of memories you became Onlan." The name came out guttural almost unfamiliar to his ears.   
  
"I am counted as one of the clan?" He gestured excitedly.   
  
She nodded, "all clan veejias have the memory for this. Whatever happens to clan, we know too. Our memories are no longer limited. That is how I saw you and knew you would come. I've been waiting to make this request to you."   
  
"I would be happy to help you if I'm able to." He waited for her to continue.   
  
Suddenly she dropped her hands and scurried behind the girls. Her brown eyes went large with fright as she watched the people.   
  
Puzzled, Thonolan turned to see what had frightened her. Ayla had let out the familiar shrill whistle and waited while Whinney trotted to her. Not only had she shown her power over the horse but then she swiftly leapt atop the mare and galloped off.   
  
A grin spread across Thonolan's face when he realized there was nothing to fear. "The horses are friends, there's nothing to be afraid of."   
  
Oba cautiously craned her neck to see the strange vision. She had some knowledge of the woman and horse friendship, but to see them together was an altogether new experience.   
  
Nalie was less reserved. "How does she do that?" The girl ran toward the people to get a closer view.   
  
Thonolan noted the looks of wonder that Ayla's demonstration had elicited. The noise of people talking at once, interacting among each other was a novelty. How long had it been since he had been among a group of vocal people? Not since the Mamutoi camp that pulled him and his brother out of the quicksand. A pang of remorse shot through him when he remembered how little he had appreciated their companionship.   
  
Ayla and Whinney loped back to the people and came to a stop next to Jondalar. "Ayla of No People," Talut's voice boomed, "...I would like you to visit, and bring the horses. No one will believe us otherwise!" Chuckles arose as Talut's booming laugh washed over them. The people turned and led the way to their home.   
  
"I'm am so excited to have you all here!" Nalie gushed. "Wait until you meet my, er our family." She looked up adoringly at the handsome stranger. Had fate not have cut her life short, she would have been much closer to him in age. Though her body was quite young, her mind had matured during the years since her death. However, some girlish habits had become stunted without the culturing she would have experienced. She was an enigma of unique qualities.   
  
Brazie laughed at her sister. "Nalie, you talk too much. You might scare him away before he gets to the camp." Gesturing to her and Thonolan, she followed the trail back home.   
  
Oba scurried behind them. A worried look settled on her features. There was much she wanted to discuss with this man and hoped he would find her worthy of his attention.   
  
(TMH pp.3-4)   
  
--------------------  
  
Thank you all for being patient for the second part of the story. I appreciate each and every review, that lets me know what your thoughts are on this.   
  
ETA: Since there are a few more "watchers" that Thonolan will encounter in this part, here is a list of who they are.  
  
Bectie: Grandmother (Great Mother) to Crozie, and mother in-law to Bruzec  
  
Brazie: daugther of Bruzec, sister to Fralie, Nalie and Tarnov  
  
Bruzec: Leader of the Aurochs camp, mated to Crozie, father to Fralie Brazie, Nalie and Tarnov  
  
Nalie: daughter of Bruzec, sister to Fralie, Brazie and Tarnov  
  
Oba: A clan woman, mother to Rydag  
  
Tala: Daughter of the Leapord Lodge, mate of Wymez, mother of Ranec  
  
Tarnov: son of Bruzec, brother to Fralie Brazie and Nalie  
  
To summarize the "family tree" of the Aurochs camp:  
  
Bectie had children, we only know of one in the books, Crozie.  
  
Crozie was mated to Bruzec and he led the Aurochs camp.  
  
They had children; Fralie, Brazie, Nalie and Tarnov.  
  
Fralie and Crozie were the only ones to survive the destruction of Aurochs camp.  
  
Fralie mated with Frebec and they had a daughter, Bectie.  
  
All of the veejias I've made up from the story, they are not in the books. Many are referred to in story, but none are named. 


	2. Gathering of the Weavers

Chapter 2  
  
The Weavers Gather  
  
-----------  
  
Rounding a bend in the river, Thonolan gaped at the strange cave like dwelling. People were emerging from a perfectly arched entrance curious about the visitors. The cave seemed to rise out of the ground in a long and symmetrical shape.   
  
"It's man made," Brazie offered to the confused veejia.   
  
Her revelation made the dwelling seem all the more impressive. Thonolan had never seen such a living place that was made by human hands. It seemed quite large and strong enough to withstand the weather extremes. Temporary summer dwellings, lean-tos or travelling tents were the only kinds of made homes he had seen. These innovative people had gained respect in his eyes.   
  
A nervous nicker punctuated the mare's growing nervousness. Thonolan jolted himself back into his responsibilities and went over to calm the mare. Before he could reach them, Jondalar had already started to defuse the potentially dangerous situation.   
  
"Talut! No one must touch the horses unless Ayla allows it!"   
  
"Stay back! You heard him." Thonolan jumped back from the booming voice of the headman. Seeing him close up for the first time, Talut seemed much larger than what he had thought. He was a giant of a man but he instinctively knew that Talut's character matched his physical strength.   
  
Brazie laid a hand on Thonolan's arm and guided him closer. "I'd like you to meet my brother, Tarnov."   
  
Formal greetings were exchanged as he observed the young boy. Tarnov was slightly younger than Brazie but held the same stoic look that Nalie had first given him. "And this is my great mother Bectie." Thonolan turned once again in greeting. She was a wizened looking old woman whose eyes didn't miss much. Bectie reminded him of a salty dog-wolf he had once seen near a hunt.   
  
"What has happened to your family that so many are here in the in-between?"   
  
Bectie shook her head, "it's quite a long story, I'll tell you later. We have plenty of time young one." She fixed her steely gaze upon him. "There is one more you need to meet." She gestured to a man who had been impassively observing them. "This is Bruzec, leader of the aurrochs camp. Mate of my eldest great daughter."   
  
Thonolan began to wonder how many more there could be. Surely with so many veejias around the camp was well blessed. Perhaps he wasn't needed on this part of the journey.   
  
Turning to study the people of the camp, he was suddenly struck again with the feeling. Stronger was the longing for normalcy and understanding. Searching for the source, he gasped at the same time Ayla spotted him.   
  
Oba nervously approached Thonolan and stood bowing her head. She waited in expectation of his tap. Moments passed as she stood in front of him and she reluctantly peeked up to see if he was still there. Disappointment flooded through her. He doesn't even see me. How can I communicate to this man? She thought about her interaction with Tarnov and Bruzec. She had never had an occasion where she sought out their attention. They had tolerated the differences of customs, but hadn't felt completely comfortable with her submissive postures. Do I dare approach him in the way of a woman of the Others? Even when she had lived with the man of the Others, she had not given up all her good clan manners. Straightening her spine, Oba stepped in front of Thonolan.  
  
"A child of mixed spirits," Thonolan exclaimed, "what is he doing here?" These Mamutoi must indeed be a unique group if they could take in such a child and care for him, he added to himself. As he looked closely at this strange child he couldn't help but note how close he looked to Durc. A figure shifted into his line of view and he looked up in annoyance.   
  
"This woman would like to tell you of her son," she gestured with her eyes downcast. Out of necessity, she reluctantly looked up to gauge his response.   
  
"He is your son?" Thonolan whispered incredulously forgetting his annoyance, "please tell me about him. How is it that he was taken in by these people?"   
  
She nodded, pleased at his response. "Rydag, my deformed child," she began hesitantly, "was born soon after I made contact with the lion camp. He was my only redeeming hope after I had been cursed."   
  
"Death cursed?"   
  
Oba stiffened and nodded, "after I was cursed, I wandered waiting for my totem to find me and guide me home. The last I remember was falling down a ravine, then nothing." She paused and glanced up nervously. Seeing that she had his full interest, she continued. "I woke up to a fire and warm furs. I thought I was at last in my hearth in the sky, but I was wrong. A man of the Others had found me and nursed me back to health." She omitted her disorientation and shock when she discovered how different the Others were. Flushing, she recalled how different they were in every way. Oba had been quite disconcerted to find that the man of the Others preferred her to face him.  
  
"Was your son with you then?" Thonolan queried. He sensed her hesitation and knew she wasn't telling him everything.   
  
She shook her head; "it was much later that I found that I was blessed. He took me with him, I think he was journeying somewhere. When I became pregnant, it confirmed the fact that I was not dead. The child would have redeemed my status." Thonolan nodded, knowing that women who had children were more desirable. "It was the day that the earth shook that..."   
  
A large motherly woman rushed out of the entrance and swept through Oba. Temporarily disoriented, Oba looked around at the woman. Her brown liquid eyes grew wide, "Rydag!" She shouted and rushed over to her son.   
  
Thonolan turned, alarmed at her shout. It was the first time he had heard her vocalize. Looking past the crowd of people, he spotted Ayla leading Whinney with Rydag riding on top. "Oba, he'll be fine, Whinney won't hurt him."   
  
The woman looked at him with concern in her eyes. She had quickly gotten past her fear of the horse when she saw the expression on her son's face and sensed there was no danger. "He can't get too excited, it's not good for his heart. Yet, I have never seen him happier." She watched with pride as her son was treated to the first ride for the lion camp.   
  
Thonolan also observed the trio, but his thoughts drifted. The feeling of longing from this boy had lessened slightly. But can such small favors make up for a childhood of abnormality? He didn't envy Oba her responsibility. If she was to gain status for her son and ascend with him, she had a ways to go. His heart is not strong, though. She may not have much time.   
  
Their situation puzzled him; he still had not learned how they had come to the lion camp. He turned to ask for her to continue the story. "Oba, would you..." His voice trailed off as he spotted another member of the camp. "Great Mother, who is that?"   
  
Bectie had been watching the exchange with feigned interest. "That, dear boy, is trouble for them, and trouble for you."   
  
(TMH pp.8-10) 


	3. The Dark Thread

Chapter 3  
  
The Dark Thread  
  
-----------------  
  
Thonolan's attention was drawn by Ayla's gasp. He looked up to follow her gaze and saw atop the entryway the skull of the cave lion. The skull wasn't what had caught his attention; it was the giant lion spirit staring down at him.  
  
Nalie gasped and clutched Thonolan's arm, "will he hurt us?" She whispered, "I've never seen an animal spirit this close before."   
  
He stared uncertainty at the ominous spirit who had turned its piercing eyes on him. Without moving its mouth, the cave lion spoke to him. "The threads will be woven. The weaving requires many hands." Bunching up its powerful muscles the lion leapt from its perch and bounded away, shaking the ground in its powerful wake.   
  
'A sensation of quivering earth beneath her feet brought a rush of nausea. She shook her head to dispel the vivid memory. "What's wrong, Ayla?" Jondalar asked.   
  
"I saw that skull, and remembered when I was chosen, when the Calve Lion became my totem!"   
  
"We are the Lion Camp," Talut announced with pride (TMH p. 18)'   
  
Nalie relaxed her hold on Thonolan's cloak as the Cave Lion disappeared. Oba was less disconcerted than the rest. The animal spirits were a part of her clan spirit memories. She had noticed the look of frightened wonder on the faces of the Others. For the first time since coming to the Lion Camp, Oba felt pride in her clan heritage. The veejias of the Others treated her with respect, but their differences kept them emotionally apart.   
  
Talut led Jondalar and Ayla to the Mammoth Hearth. Bectie motioned for everyone to stop short of the hearth. Cautiously, she stepped within the bounds and used all her senses to explore. Sensing nothing out of the ordinary, she relaxed and motioned for the others to follow.   
  
Thonolan looked at her with a puzzled expression, "what were looking for?"   
  
"Mamut. He often searches for hunts. When he does, we're vulnerable, because he can see us. We're usually safe inside the lodge, but it's best to be cautious around his hearth."   
  
Suddenly, it all became clear to Thonolan. This was the camp that Creb had shown him on that journey. That's why he had seen the Mamut searching; they had been close by all this time. His eyes searched the pile of furs for the familiar figure.   
  
The old wizened face was studying the woman kneeling in front of him in clan fashion as well as the man beside her. He reached over and tapped her shoulder.   
  
Thonolan looked at the others, his eyes asking if they had seen the same thing. "How does he know clan ways?" He asked in wonder.   
  
Oba touched his arm and waited for him to turn to her. "Mamut lived with the clan for awhile before he was Mamut." She was about to say more but decided against it. The stories would be told eventually.   
  
Mamut concentrated on the world unseen. As always, the spirits were surrounding and protecting the camp. Yet, there was something different in the air today. He knew it had something to do with Ayla and Jondalar. He shuddered as a cold breeze blew over him. Change was in the air, but he didn't know if it was good or bad.   
  
Thonolan wasn't sure who he was frustrated at more, that dark man or his brother. Thonolan paced in front of the food area, casting a glance now and then at Ayla and the man. She was just too innocent and open in her feelings. Jondalar was too, but he was acting so foolishly! He kicked a rock out of his way, wishing he could talk some since into his brother.  
  
"Stop that!" He looked up surprised as Bectie marched toward him. "It's fine that you know how to control the material world, but don't do it in front of the living!" She had her hands on her hips, her eyes scolding him like a mother hen.   
  
He flushed and stopped his pacing. "I know, you're right. I wasn't thinking about it."   
  
She relaxed her stance; "we all know what's troubling you." She glanced over at the woman who laughing at Ranec's remarks. "But brooding won't do any good. I can see you're more like your brother than you let on."   
  
Thonolan looked over at his brother, then down at himself. A grin spread across his face, "Bectie, you're right. I'm acting just like him. Neither of us is being very effective, are we?"   
  
She nodded and smiled. Inwardly she was questioning the Mother by giving these people a Watcher like this one. The wind crested the hill and shifted to them. Bectie looked up as the rest of the veejias became animated.   
  
"Could it be?"   
  
"I thought she had ascended, it's been so long."   
  
"Wait until Thonolan meets them!"   
  
At the mention of his name, he turned and scanned the top of the hill. There, coming toward him was the most exotic woman he had ever seen. She was tall and dark, even a deeper shade than Ranec. The color reminded him of a deep rich colored wood he had seen on rare occasions. Her hair was the color of deep night and was pulled off her face in an intricate style. He noted the curly thick texture of the wisps that had escaped. The clothes she wore were unusual and added to the foreign quality. Her whole bearing was strong and graceful as her long legs brought her quickly toward them. His eyes traveled to her face when he noted that her flashing eyes were looking directly back at him.   
  
"Welcome back!" Brazie raced up to the woman and flung her arms around her legs.   
  
The woman smiled and swept her up in her arms, "it has been a long time, little one." Giving Brazie a squeeze, she swung the girl up onto her muscular shoulders. Brazie beamed in delight, hardly able to believe her friend had returned.   
  
Nalie remembered her manners and approached, forcing her legs to go at a fast walk and not break out in a run. Secretly she wished she could have run up also. When the veejias approached and stopped in front of the woman, greetings were enthusiastically exchanged.   
  
"I see you've taken good care of your mate," Bruzec nodded toward the newcomers. She gave a nod of ascent and turned to Thonolan. Bruzec faced them both, "this is Thonolan of the Sharmudoi, great servant of the Mother." He turned to the woman; "this is Tala, daughter of the Leopard Lodge, mate of Wymez and mother of Ranec."   
  
Tala held her arms out in the formal gesture of the northern people, "I greet you Thonolan of the Sharmudoi." Her warm rich voice washed over him. Goosebumps broke across his skin.   
  
Shaking himself out of her allure he brought his hands up, "I greet you Tala of the Leopard Lodge, mate of Wymez."   
  
She turned to study the people who had surrounded the newcomers. "Now, where is my laughing eyed son? And what kind of mischief has he gotten into since we left?"   
  
Brazie patted her hair, "he hasn't done too much yet. But I think he'd like to be trouble to someone now!" She pointed to a man and woman standing at the bottom of the hill.   
  
Tala raised her eyebrows at Bectie, "so I've come just in time."   
  
-----------------  
  
Thanks for being patient with this last chapter. Real life had picked up a bit lately, but hopefully will calm down soon. I've added a "character list" for the spirits that are at Lion Camp on the first page. I hope this will clear up any confusion with the characters. 


	4. The Mother's Will

Chapter 4  
  
The Mother's Will  
  
Thonolan felt an odd sense of pain coming from someone nearby. He whirled to look around, concern etched on his face. He sensed excitement mixed with longing. Eagerness and then...pain! Thonolan turned and spotted the boy. He quickly made his way toward the boy with Oba following on his heels.  
  
"Ry-dag," she grunted. She reached a sturdy strong arm reached and put a loving hand on his heart. Almost at once, the pain sensations began to fade. The heart normalized and slowed to a more regular pace. The danger over, she sat back on her heels.   
  
"That's amazing! I've seen others touch material things but never the inside before. How did you do that?" Thonolan asked.  
  
She slowly stood up to face him. Her hand that had touched Rydag's heart reached and touched her own. "Here, this is where the power comes from. My strength given for his."   
  
Puzzled he shook his head, "how can you give strength?"   
  
Oba leaned close and to his surprise, stared him in the eyes. Her eyes pierced to the hidden places that he did not willingly share. "How did you feel after you became Clan? You slept," she said answering herself, " as one who had outrun Ursus himself. Yes we tire, but it is temporary. But we can only give so much of our energy to one person."   
  
Thonolan recalled how exhausted he had been and nodded in understanding. A prickling awareness raised the hair on his flesh. "How did you know I felt that way?"   
  
"There you are, come and see Wymez and Danug with their watcher," Brazie interrupted. She had been lifted off Tala's shoulders and had run over to her new favorite man. Tugging on his sleeve, she pulled him toward the descending people.   
  
"Little one let me first get my bearings. I'd like to meet the people that Thonolan watches for." Tala said.   
  
Tarnov approached with eyes lit with excitement. "He's back," he said motioning to where the blonde woman stood with her horses.   
  
Tala gasped as her eyes gazed on the largest Cave Lion she had ever met. His huge hnga hnga echoed through the wind. The lion barely gave her a glance as he concentrated his attentions on the blonde woman.   
  
Ayla caressed the objects in her amulet. "Spirit of the Great Cave Lion, Creb always says a powerful totem was hard to live with. He was right...(TMH p.26)"   
  
"Told you!" Tarnov exclaimed. He enjoyed watching the surprise on Tala's face. "It's her tootem that protects her."   
  
"Totem," Bectie corrected. "Perhaps we should go back and leave them alone," she said looking uncertainly at the other watchers.  
  
Either Tala hadn't heard or she chose to ignore the words. She stood transfixed on the scene playing out before her.  
  
"...This woman would beg the Spirit of the Great Cave Lion to help the man who has been chosen...to know that no matter how difficult it may seem, the testing is necessary (TMH p.27)."   
  
Though Ayla had spoken in the words of Clan, she was understood as if she had been speaking. Giving a giant roar, the lion pivoted suddenly. The group jumped back in surprise. Many were afraid though they tried not to show it. Fixing a questioning gaze on the veejias, the lion trotted over to Jondalar. Facing the tall blonde man, he opened his massive mouth and breathed on him.   
  
Deep in the lodge, Mamut sat in a trance like state. He shuddered, as a warm wind seemed to caress him. A voice seemed to whisper in eerie echoes, "No! Not the mother and child..."   
  
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o  
  
"Weave the threads."   
  
Thonolan looked around for the source of the voice. He knew the source, but he wanted to be sure. Looking around, he eyed the people who were gathered around the large hearth telling the stories of their journeys. Some of the veejias were listening while others had wandered off.   
  
"I'm doing what you've asked. What more do you want now?" He whispered.  
  
The breeze swirled around him, bringing him to his feet and prodded him to exit the lodge. Relaxing, Thonolan let the wind take him to where it would go. Up and over, past many tributaries and rivers he flew until they neared the great sea. Recognizing the area, he knew where the wind was taking him. Below, he saw members of the Clan out on a hunt. Brun was leading their scant group of hunters. Nearing the cave, Thonolan looked around for signs of Broud.   
  
Oga was gathering berries with Uba near the cave. Her eyes wandered more often to the woods around them than the bushes in front of her. Ever since Broud had been discharged of his leadership, she had lived in constant fear. Their hearth had become a place of misery. She was often cuffed or beaten even if she had not done anything wrong. Her sons had taken to brooding also. They were also aware that their place in this clan was unsure. Her youngest however had been training with Goov. Perhaps he would be a powerful mog-ur and redeem their status.   
  
Thonolan followed the life trail that he knew was Broud's and found him woods with two others. Broud, Brac and Grev had left early this morning to hunt by themselves. The former leader did not interact with any members of the clan anymore, except the sons of his hearth. They had been tracking a bison that Broud had wounded. Brac noted the sun was starting its descent and they still hadn't found it. Perhaps it would be wiser to look for other game he thought to himself as he swatted at another fly. Suddenly, Broud stopped and held a hand up.   
  
Crouching low, Brac peered from the thick bramble into the clearing ahead. His heart sunk. The bison was there all right, but another predator had found it first. Wounded and unable to run, the bison had succumbed to the lioness.   
  
Broud motioned to his sons and gripped his spear. Grev hesitated and motioned back.   
  
"We can't take a kill from a lioness! This is not safe, I sense something bad in the air."   
  
Broud scowled at his youngest son of his hearth. He didn't understand Grev's fixation with the spirit world, anymore than he had understood Creb. But Broud was still the man of his hearth and in his heart was still leader. Motioning again, he watched in satisfaction as the boys reluctantly gripped their spears in readiness.   
  
Jumping out into the clearing, Broud gave a yell. The lioness turned in irritation to see what had interrupted her meal. Running toward her was a hairy biped with a pointy stick aimed at her. Eyes narrowing, she gave a loud roar and bunched her muscles beneath her.   
  
Grev had jumped when the lioness had let out her roar. He wanted to turn and run back to the cave, but was ashamed at himself for considering it. He watched as the lioness loped toward Broud with fangs and claws unsheathed.  
  
Brac was less hesitant and jumped into the fray. He stood near Broud and made ready to jab the lioness. The earth seemed to tremble beneath him and echo an unearthly fear. The hnga hnga hnga grew louder in his ears until it erupted in an ear splitting roar. Broud suddenly realized that the lioness had not made the sound. He jerked around and saw the largest cave lion he had ever seen.   
  
"Grev!" Brac shouted and motioned wildly. The mate of the lioness was behind his brother and ready to attack. Another growl from the female made Brac turn back to where the father of his hearth readied himself for the lioness' attack. She left the ground in one quick movement and aimed her claws at the torso of the man. 


	5. A New Spirit

Chapter 5  
  
A New Spirit  
  
His aim thrown off by Brac's yell, Broud turned his head and glimpsed a blur of golden fur loping toward Grev. "NO!" He screamed. His mind was whirring. IIt can't happen this way. A lion, her totem was the lion.  
  
His spear was roughly pushed aside from the onslaught of the lioness. Broud grunted in pain as her teeth deep into his neck. The momentum from the beast toppled him onto the ground. Broud heard a sickening snap and realized it was the breaking of his backbone. The pain was unbearable as he tried to wrestle the best off of him. Darkness began to edge his vision and he soon felt no more pain.  
  
Brac was frozen into inaction. He watched in terror as the lioness landed on the father of his hearth. He heard the loud snap of vertebrae breaking apart. Dead, the man of his hearth was dead and his brother would soon be too. The lion was closing in. Time slowed as he stood there unable to more. In a gesture of total helplessness, he motioned "Stop!" over and over at the horror about him.   
  
Baby saw the gesture out of the corner of his eye. Could it be? Only Mother made that signal, and Mother took care of me and played with me. Mother was safe and loving. But Mother had yellow hair like me. With a loud growl he rounded on the other creature.   
  
Grev held his arm up in a vain attempt to save himself. A cry of pain was forced from his throat as the lion bit deeply into his arm. He fell to the ground with the mighty beast on top. With one quick swipe, Baby batted his face with unsheathed claws. The strange creature made that sound again.   
  
"Stop!" Brac gasped. Making his legs obey him, he ran towards the beast that had his brother.   
  
Baby lifted his bloody muzzle and looked up in surprise at the motion and noise. Thonolan had been frantically trying to make the lioness stop her attack. Hearing the neck snap, he knew it was too late for Broud. Thonolan had stared motionless as chills swept through him. This was the lioness that had killed him in the same way. That was the lion, no, that was Baby that had tried to kill Jondalar. He jumped back as he watched Broud's spirit emerge from his body.   
  
The lioness was assured that her kill was now safe with Baby helping. She turned back toward the bison. Grunting at Baby, she started dragging her game to their cave. For them, the battle was over.  
  
Baby watched as the strange small creature backed away when he neared. The motion of "stop" made him wary of pursuing. He sniffed at the broken and bleeding body beneath. Snorting, he left the scene, not caring for that particular kind of meat. Their hnga hnga hngas faded into the distance.   
  
At first Brac couldn't believe that the lions were leaving. He was still alive, and mostly unhurt. A sob left Brac's throat as he viewed the carnage left behind. His eyes rolled back into his head and he slipped into unconsciousness.   
  
Broud rushed over to the sons of his hearth, relieved that Brac was unhurt. Inspecting Grev, his throat constricted. His arm was hanging by mere ligaments of muscle and would probably never be useful again. He had gashes and wounds all over from the claws but the face was a different matter. The claws had come down in a diagonal direction from his forehead to ear. One eye was split open. Broud looked up in surprise when he heard someone approach. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of the strange man of the Others.   
  
oooooooooo  
  
Thonolan looked down at the veejia who was once Broud. Though Thonolan was disgusted with the way he had treated Ayla, the Clan part of him understood his reasons. Heaving a sigh, he knew he had to communicate and attempt to help Broud.  
  
Broud's shock increased when the strange apparition began to speak to him. He searched his memories, and found ones that he didn't realize he had. "Onlan," he spoke in recognition.   
  
Thonolan smiled in relief. As Oba had said, the clan veejias' memories held all that happened to Clan. "I am sorry for you," he motioned, "but would like to help."   
  
Taken aback at Onlan's smile, he recalled the Other who had done that. She had bared her teeth and curled up her lips too. He furrowed his brow, "I do not need your help, I need a healer."   
  
"You are beyond needing a healer."   
  
Broud jumped up, chills running through him. "What do you mean?"   
  
Thonolan gestured to a broken and lifeless body. The new veejia eyed his mortal body in disbelief. "What did you do? Are you a spirit?" Fear gripped Broud and he cast his eyes around for other strange apparitions.   
  
"Yes..."   
  
Broud gasped at hearing this and started to back away.   
  
"...And so are you," Thonolan finished. In a sadistic way, he enjoyed watching the terror and confusion on Broud's face. Compassion took over and he felt ashamed.   
  
"Noooo!" Unable to comprehend all that was happening, Broud prepared to flee. Turning away, he curled back in fright at the sight of another spirit. "Creb," he whimpered.   
  
"Yes, it is I." Fixing Broud with a baleful stare, Creb began chanting.   
  
The new veejia crumpled to the ground in a helpless pile of whimpers. This can't be, this can't be, Broud said to himself over and over in a monotonous rhythm. An earthly rumble assaulted his senses and he knew something else had come to greet him.   
  
"Broud, get up! Do not cast shame upon me."   
  
He hesitantly peeked up, but regretted it at once. There, standing in his full glory, was the largest wooly rhino he had ever seen. The rhino noted his cowardice and lowered his horny head.   
  
Grasping around desperately, Broud tried to pick up his spear. Each time he put his hand on it, it went through it! In a last attempt to save himself he threw back his head and emitted a shrill guttural wail.   
  
The rhino stopped his stamping and nodded. "Do not act so again. Creb and I will help you until you are ready to go to your spirit hearth."   
  
Broud stumbled to a sitting position, feeling exhaustion. They were here to help..."but what about Onlan?"   
  
Creb turned his attention to the veejia. "His purpose is higher than helping you. He is weaving a future that you helped to start."   
  
Confusion covered his features. "Help? How did I help in this?"   
  
Leaning close, Creb stared into his eyes. After a few moments, Broud started to squirm. "You set Her free to her destiny."   
  
Broud's eyes glazed over in fury. Jumping up he began gesturing wildly. "She is dead! She can have no more destiny than an animal. She was cursed and her spirit wanders about the earth. I had her cursed! She is dead!"   
  
"No, Broud." Casting a glance at Thonolan, Creb held out his one good arm. "Thonolan and I will show you how you have helped shape her destiny." 


	6. The Ceremony

Chapter 6  
  
With Creb on one side and Onlan on the other, Broud found himself trapped. To his astonishment, he discovered that his feet were no longer in contact with the ground. He watched in horror as the land rushed away from his feet. In all of the ceremonies he'd been a part of, none of them matched this level of supernatural awe.   
  
Thonolan had a sense of déjà vu as they traveled higher and higher until the earth blurred around them. Traveling nearer to the Great Sea, they followed a path to the previous home of the clan. Ayla was leaving and motioning to the people who didn't see her. Broud raised his arm as if to strike.   
  
"She should have been the son of my mate..."   
  
The words wafted up to them and Broud narrowed his eyes. He tried to swoop down on them but was held fast between the mog-ur and Onlan. Time moved forward quickly and slowed again to show the valley of horses. Thonolan's attention was caught as much as Broud's now. There was the trail that he and his brother had journeyed on, a thin thread of a path. Of course, he thought to himself. Two threads that were to be woven together.   
  
Creb brought them along on the same path that he had shown Thonolan long ago. With each amazing scene, Broud's ire increased. She was supposed to be dead. Spirits don't gather food or make fires. But one thing he did notice and it made him glad. No other person saw her. Perhaps the curse was there still and she was a spirit. That would explain the strange behavior of the animals. The firestone also seemed unnatural. Even as a spirit, he had no memory for it.   
  
Thonolan was aware of the tension building inside of Broud. He glanced uneasily at Creb who seemed not to notice. The air around them changed. The scene was all too familiar, and this time Thonolan looked away when Baby attacked.   
  
Broud's eyes grew wide. That is what happened to him and Grev. What did the spirits mean by this? Perhaps Grev would be fine after all, he thought with hope. He watched in fascination, as Onlan became a Watcher with special favor from his Donii or whatever his god was named. He had no respect for the people of the Others who favored a woman-like deity. His eyes narrowed as he fleetingly saw Onlan watching his clan.   
  
Creb brought them to the present time, or the time they knew as the present. Hovering dramatically a few moments, he swept them up toward the future. He enjoyed going to this area; it was an opening he couldn't pass through when he was alive. Both veejias with him were now transfixed on the scene. Though Thonolan had seen it before, he watched with eager anticipation.   
  
The winter passed and the pair set out on the journey home. The passage of time was a blur and each succession of scenes brought them closer to the Zelondonii. A strange thing was taking place that Thonolan had not noticed before. The name "Ayla" was spoken in awe and in the same context of Donii. She was becoming a legend and the stories were spreading.   
  
Broud noticed this too. The stupid people, he thought to himself. Can't they see how willful she is? Can't they see that she is cursed and is only a spirit? No clan member had seen her except for that deformed one in the lion camp and he didn't count. Why should a woman of such low status be given so much favor? She will not win! His mind screamed against it. Always it was Ayla who took the attention from him. Since his manhood ceremony to his leadership she had won. But now, he was a veejia. He could control the things around the lives of the living. She would not win; he would find some way to make her lose. The future was not set, he could change it. He, Broud of the Clan of the Cavebear was now more powerful than she.   
  
Broud tried to shake himself out of the odd sensations he was experiencing. He had no idea how much time had passed since they started the spirit journey. Seasons seemed to have passed, yet he stood in front of the cave looking deceptively like it had only been one day.   
  
Oga bowed her head and affected a look of mourning, though at times she found it difficult to do so. She kept her body in check and acted as a clan woman should. Inwardly she added a skip to her step as freedom lifted her heart. Today was the feast for her mate's burial, and afterwards he would be spoken of no more.   
  
The mantle of grief she displayed was for her youngest son, Grev. Though he was badly injured he would recover. The sorrow was not for his suffering, but for the boy he had been. He was no longer her son, he was now officially the mogul's acolyte; one that followed in the footsteps of Creb. She shuddered and looked quickly around her as if thinking his name could conjure him.   
  
Had Oga known that Creb was already there watching, she would have cowered in fear. Grev's mauled appearance was not lost on the wise mog-ur. As the seasons turn over again, all things come full circle and nature repeats itself.   
  
Thonolan's attention was shifted from Oga and the child of her hearth. Broud's body was being readied in the back of the cave, yet no one seemed affected by the impending ceremony. Didn't anyone care that their former leader had died? Not even his mate or the sons of his hearth showed emotion.   
  
The sun was nearing the earth when the clan members simultaneously began to prepare in earnest. Food had been cooking all day and had teased their hungry stomachs. Uba had prepared a special dish for the occasion. It had been the mog-ur's favorite especially the way her sister had made it. She would say good-bye to the man who had caused her sister so much pain with the slightly inappropriate dish.   
  
The body had been flexed in a fetal position with red ochre rubbed all over. The items included in the pit were limited. Though he had been the son of a leader and had led himself, his final status had been low. Goov saw to it that he was not given more status than what he had last lived with.   
  
Broud watched the ceremony with an impassive face. Inwardly he vowed that he would punish Goov. After the ceremony when they thought he was a spirit, he would show them all. He would be their leader still.   
  
Goov looked around uneasily. Goosebumps broke out as a cold wind caressed him. Grev felt the malicious wind also, but said nothing. He stored the knowledge in his immense brain. With everyone silent, Goov waited for the opportune moment. He began the motions that would send Broud to the spirit world. Never before had he wanted to be completely sure that he performed a ceremony correctly.   
  
His hands and body danced as he spoke to the spirits in the ancient language of the Clan. He was almost finished when he completely missed a phrase.  
  
Creb's eye widened in surprise. "No!" He motioned frantically, "you must recite it completely for it to be effective. Did I not teach you long ago?"   
  
Goov continued his fluid motions, the rest of the clan unaware of the conflict among them. Finishing his recitation, he dropped his arms feeling vaguely unfinished. Had he done it properly as Creb had shown him? Was this important enough to repeat the process? He looked around at the expectant faces and for the first time, felt powerless.   
  
Creb looked in disappointment at the man he had trained to succeed him. He knew that Goov was not as powerful as he had been, but he was the most talented of their clan. Creb's eye wandered to the faces that trusted in their mog-ur, then back to the one gloating over Goov. Something had to be done.   
  
Gathering his inner strength together, he approached the mog-ur and turned with his back toward him. Slowly, he eased backward until he was within Goov's body.   
  
A gasp escaped the mog-ur as he felt a powerful spirit enter him. Brun looked at him curiously but had no idea what was transpiring. Goov was reminded of the times when his mentor had taken them on journeys. He felt his mind being connected, synapses with synapses until he was one with the spirit. Raising his head purposefully, his eyes lit with the knowledge he had sought to find.   
  
Slowly, his arms raised and he began the process once more. Each motion was made with a deliberateness that ensured accuracy. The clan watched in awe and felt a strange eeriness. The burial ceremony was never repeated. What Goov was now doing struck cords deep in their memories that his first attempt had not done. Brun watched in awe, knowing that the brother of his hearth somehow had a hand in this.   
  
"No!" Broud shouted. He had to stop this. Marching over to the joined mog-urs, he began to push them apart.   
  
Goov felt the conflict and had to concentrate more on the ceremony. He wished he could call other spirits to help him, but it took all his concentration to do this one task.   
  
Thonolan suddenly seemed to realize that he needed to intervene. Creb could not help; he would be weaker than outside a body. No other spirits were around. It was up to him to make sure that Broud made his way to the spirit world. He sprinted toward the mog-urs and tackled Broud.   
  
Angered at the attack, Broud let go of his hold on Goov. Rounding on Onlan, he took a swing. He didn't care that clan men did not hit each other, Onlan was not fully clan.   
  
"Ah!!" He exclaimed as he found himself on the ground. In shock, he realized his fist had gone right through Onlan! Growling his frustration, he jumped up again and swung harder. "Aargh!" He yelled when he found that was also ineffective. Onlan is not stronger than I am! He thought frantically. Bunching his muscles, he charged toward the veejia.   
  
Thonolan was slightly amused by the veejia's attempts to fight him. Broud hadn't had enough time to learn how to move objects with his new veeja. For that, he was thankful. A grin split his face as Broud ploughed straight through him and found himself imbedded in a wall. I should just leave him there, he thought to himself. Turning from the struggling veejia, he looked again at the ceremony. Creb and Goov were finishing; the spirits were coming to take Broud home. He nodded to the Wooly Rhino and Cave Bear who stood patiently for their signal. 


	7. Dreams

Chapter 7 Dreams  
  
With one last dramatic flourish, the mog-ur dropped his arm. Goov felt more alive than he had in his whole life as power swept through his veins. This is what it's like to be the powerful mog-ur, he thought with a sense of awe. He could feel the presence of the spirits around them and searched his thoughts to name them. As quickly as the power had come, he felt as if he was being torn in two. Unknowingly, he let out a faint moan as his spirit was disengaged from Creb's.  
  
Creb had been following Goov's thoughts and knew it was best not to reveal too much. Shaking himself, he sat on the ground while his weariness wore off. A lot of energy was expended when connected to another's spirit.  
  
"Where's Broud?" Creb motioned to Thonolan.  
  
Thonolan stepped aside, grinning, to reveal a pair of thick flailing legs. Broud was still stuck headfirst into the cave wall. Faint moans were coming from it as he attempted to call for help. Creb's eye glistened at the sight. As Thonolan looked closer, he could have sworn the mog-ur was laughing.  
  
The Rhino and Ursus came swiftly toward the stuck veejia. One on each side, they walked directly through the wall. Once they encountered Broud, they each took a side and ushered him forward until they were out of the cave. Creb and Thonolan followed at a respective distance.  
  
"Ahhh!" Broud yelled, flailing around at his assailants.  
  
"Open your eyes," Ursus commanded.  
  
Eyes popped open and went wide with fright. If he could have, he would have crawled back into the dark place. "No!" He tried frantically to pull free. "I can't go now."  
  
The rhino came close, snorting his displeasure. "You do not wish to enter your hearth that we prepared for you?"  
  
Straightening his shoulders, Broud sensed this was a time for bravery. "There is much I still have to do yet. My status at death was not high."  
  
"That is not my fault. You had every opportunity."  
  
"I would ask that I stay here on earth for a little while longer."  
  
Ursus growled low in his throat. "What do you say to this, Creb?"  
  
The mog-ur came forward and took a moment to compose his thoughts. "I see nothing good that Broud needs to stay here for. His only intent is vengeance on those who he thinks has wronged him. This veejia would ask that you take him to his hearth."  
  
"No! I won't go! Always, I feared you because of your relationship with the spirits," Broud said angrily, glaring at Creb, "but now, I am a spirit and have power too. I fear you no longer!" He towered over the mog-ur with hate-filled eyes.  
  
"Enough!" Ursus ground out. "You have chosen your destiny. You will stay on earth."  
  
"But..." Thonolan started to protest but was held back by a hand flick from Creb.  
  
With a spiteful look, Broud sneered at the two veejias. I have won, he thought to himself. His gloating did not last long. Suddenly, his veeja felt heavy and sluggish. Astonishment washed through him as he looked down at his feet. They were in the ground! His legs were quickly following. With frenzied motions, he tried to step up and out of the soft earth but only found himself deeper. He lifted his terror filled eyes to Ursus. "What is happening to me?"  
  
"You have your wish. You will spend eternity on, or rather inside earth. Always, you will know what goes on about you, but you will never be able to emerge. And," he added with more meaning, "you will watch Ayla become a legend among all people."  
  
"No!" He struggled to pull his now sunken thighs out of the mire. In desperation, he looked around. "Creb, help me!"  
  
Creb's liquid and wise eye looked down at the doomed veejia and turned away. He couldn't watch the son of his brother's hearth come to this end.  
  
The Rhino stepped forward as Broud's shoulders were being immersed. "Broud, former leader of the clan of the Cave Bear is no longer counted among the clan." With a mighty thrust, he gored the place where the woolly rhino totem had been tattooed. A scream arose from Broud's throat as the pain of having no people, no protector and no hope seared him. When the Rhino turned away, an empty scar marred where his tattoo had once stood proud.  
  
00000000000000  
  
"Looks like you've been in a fight with a cave bear, and lost."  
  
Interrupted from his thoughts, Thonolan looked toward the melodic voice. Seeing who stood before him, he shook his head to clear it. "Sela. I...it's been...oh Donii. I'm just glad to see you. Is your mother here too?"  
  
She smiled and sat down beside him. "No, I came alone this time. Thonolan, I've missed you." She placed her hand over his for a moment, and then quickly retreated. "I'm sorry for what happened."  
  
He wrinkled his brows, "how do you know about it?"  
  
"The whole earth has been groaning with the news. There's not many veejias who don't know when a spirit has been doomed."  
  
"He wasn't all bad, he could have been a good leader..."  
  
"Hush." She put her finger to his lips. "It's over and he's gone. I doubt he appreciates your sympathy. After all, he now knows you're the one who spilled that hot soup on his lap."  
  
He chuckled, "I guess you're right." Pausing, he glanced toward the man made structure that sat near the river. He'd been back for half a day but couldn't bring himself to go inside. He was glad that he found an old friend who he felt he could confide in. Gesturing toward the camp he said, "have you met the Mamutoi?"  
  
She nodded, "some, yes. We don't always get along, even though we're spirits now." She pointedly stared at him then looked down. "I don't know if I want to meet them, but for Ayla, I know I must."  
  
"Then that's two of us who'd rather stay out here and enjoy the weather instead." The sky was deepening in silky sable darkness. They gazed upward toward the hearth fires each thinking of other fires in long ago hearths.  
  
Thonolan shot up to a standstill, startling Sela. Concentrating on the emotions he felt emanating from the shelter, he grasped Sela. "Come on!" Pulling her with him, they hurried toward the Mammoth Hearth.  
  
They took a short cut and entered a wall near the sleeping platforms. Feeling frenzied, Sela tried to compose herself before the hearth. It would not do to make a bad impression on these Mamutoi. Calmly she approached her sister's thrashing form.  
  
"She's dreaming again," Sela said in a whisper. She knelt gracefully before the sleeping platform and laid one hand on her sister's heart, the other on the head.  
  
In shock, she lifted her head toward the wizened old man sleeping nearby. "Thonolan, they're dreaming the same dream!"  
  
"What?" Lacking the discernment with the woman, he relied on Sela to help. "How is that possible?"  
  
"Here, take my hand. I'll show you." Gently, she guided his hand to Ayla's head and rested her hand atop. Instantly, they felt the pull into her subconscious.  
  
Thonolan felt the link between the two minds, a weaker chain than he had shared with Creb. Who was guiding and who was watching? Through blurry shadows and echoed sounds he watched also. Ayla was home with the Zelondonii, and had a beautiful blonde son by her side. Another man approached whom he instinctively knew was also her son. Yet he was shorter and rougher looking, and part Clan. Thonolan watched in trepidation as they approached each other in hostility. He then saw Ayla begin to writhe in panic and they knew one must die. Trying to approach, she felt herself completely blocked. She woke up screaming!  
  
Thonolan and Sela quickly backed away at her awakened outburst. Wonderment was on both of their faces.  
  
"Ayla! Ayla! What's wrong?" Mamut asked.  
  
Sela pulled Thonolan further back away from Mamut. The heard only muffled voices as they tried to calm the woman.  
  
"Who was guiding? Who was watching?" Thonolan asked in bewilderment.  
  
Sela looked just as shaken. "That's why this is so odd. The dream was obviously from the Mother, but she didn't guide it." Staring directly up at him she lowered her voice, "and neither did Ayla or Mamut."  
  
(TMH pp. 64-65)  
  
0000000000000000  
  
Thank you for all of the lovely reviews, it's a great encouragement to me. Welcome to Khana, Huskerinexile and barbmc. And it's great to have back my original readers, Rubber Duck (yes I missed you), jester and Tamira. 


	8. Signs and Wonders

Chapter 8 Signs and Wonders  
  
"Oh no, not her. I don't think she likes me," Sela groaned. She spotted the elder veejia making her way up the hill. Sela and Thonolan had attempted to stay apart from the others to keep animosity down, since last night's dream. After the introductions had been made, the veejias of the Mamutoi didn't seem to want to spend time with the Sungaean veejia.  
  
"I thought I'd find you two here." She looked over Sela, studying her closely. In one fluid movement, she sat down beside them. "Why does a Sungaean veejia have need to be at a Mamutoi camp?"  
  
"I am a Watcher, just like you. I have every right to be here," Sela said, bristling slightly.  
  
"Yes, but Thonolan does not need watching," Bectie said with a wink, "who do you think you're watching for?"  
  
"Don't you know? Ayla is my younger sister."  
  
Bectie looked taken aback but recovered quickly. "Ayla is Sungaean?"  
  
Sela nodded and smiled as if teaching something difficult to a slow child. Thonolan gave a nod of agreement also.  
  
That settled the matter for Bectie, but it opened up a new realm of problems. There were still bad feelings between the two groups. The Sungaea were not as progressive as her beloved Mamutoi, they were primitive in their customs and living. How could a strange Sungaean woman have a place with the Mamutoi? Bectie was privileged to know a bit of the path of the future but not the way in which it would happen. She knew that Ayla would become very important to the Lion Camp.  
  
"Ayla does not know her origins," Sela continued, "she lost her family in an earthquake and was adopted by the Clan. She has only been with Jondalar since this summer." Sela watched in satisfaction, as the woman became more agitated.  
  
"The Clan?" She exploded. "You mean flatheads? Oh no, this will never do. The Lion Camp will never accept her!"  
  
Thonolan's eyes narrowed. "There is nothing wrong with The Clan. They have great intelligence and compassion. What is there not to accept?"  
  
"Young veejia, you know as well as I do what is wrong. They are considered to be animals, and it is an abomination to interact with them. Why would you defend them?"  
  
"I became Clan after my death. It's a strange story, so I won't tell you now," he said with am apologetic smile, "their destiny is intertwined with the people of the Others. They were created by the Mother just as we were."  
  
Bectie looked at him sternly, then chuckled. "Thonolan and Sela, I'm so glad you're here. Days have become too monotonous for me now. I've been watching my family for far too long. I think you two are just the thing to liven things up." She got up and started to head down the hill. "Are you coming? I think it's best that you get acquainted with the others." She took Sela's reluctant arm in hers and led her to the camp.  
  
Oba's eyes were shining with unrepressed love. She turned to Onlan as he approached them. "Did you see what he did? What my son did?"  
  
Delighted to see her acting more like a woman of the Others, he smiled and shook his head. "What did Rydag do?"  
  
"He signed! He signed, 'good morning mother. It was as if he was speaking to me."  
  
Thonolan looked to Nezzie embracing her adopted son. She had tears in her eyes at Rydag's communication. So Ayla was already starting to affect the camp. She is destined for high status, despite the Sungaea or Clan background.  
  
Nezzie and Rydag gathered closer as she began to teach them more words. Oba sat quietly watching them, her posture proclaiming her joy.  
  
(TMH p.73)  
  
0000000000  
  
"I don't envy you your responsibility," Sela said to Thonolan, "you certainly have an awesome task. I almost think it would be easier if they were still in the valley or had just gone home."  
  
Thonolan sighed. "I know, and it's harder with all the other veejias around, and Mamut. We have to go into hiding whenever he searches. I've been working on changing shape, though." He grinned slyly at her, "and it's not Ranec that I'm concerned with, it's Tala. I don't have to face the son, but the mother I see everyday."  
  
"Do you want me to stay for awhile longer?"  
  
"No, as much as I'd like to have you around I think I'll be fine for now. Oba watches for Rydag, Tala for Ranec, Bruzec for Crozie, Bectie for Fralie, Tarnov for Crisavec and Brazie and Nalie take care of Tasher. I think one of them may become responsible for the one to be born. That leaves them pretty busy. But they are willing to help if I need it. It's hard to believe that there's so many around at once. It's almost luckier to have lost someone who is not buried properly, for the living," he said with a smile, "and how is your father?"  
  
"I think his time may be near, that's why mother didn't want to leave him. He gets sick more easily and winter is coming. I think I'll actually be glad when he dies, so we can all go home together," she confessed with a blush.  
  
"I don't blame you, Sela. You've been watching faithfully for many seasons." He put his arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. She turned her head toward him and found his mouth very close.  
  
Sela was giddy and tingled all over. With heart fluttering, she felt like she had drunk too much bouza. Her eyes opened briefly and noted the beauty of his face. But he was promised to another, and she waited with their son.  
  
Thonolan's thoughts were also turned to Jetamio. Slowly, he pulled back. "Sela, I..."  
  
"Don't say it," she said with a sob. Jumping up, she sped away without looking back.  
  
"Thonolan you are a fool," he said aloud. He felt like an untried youth at a summer meeting. When he closed his eyes and tried to remember Jetamio's face. Slowly, he headed back toward the camp, hoping that no one could guess his thoughts. That's when he heard the cry of distress.  
  
"Nuvie! Nuvie! O Mother! She's choking!" Snapping out of his self-pity, he sprinted the rest of the way. The cries were frantic, and the emotion panicked. He stared in horror when he saw little Nuvie lying still on the ground. She was turning blue, and she didn't have a Watcher.  
  
He saw Ayla came through the helpless crowd and immediately set to work. With quick and purposefully movements, she managed to extract a bone that had been lodged in the throat. Nuvie was breathing again, to the relief of all. Thonolan felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down.  
  
"How does she know how to do that?" Nalie asked, "I've never seen anyone with so much healing ability."  
  
He smiled at her and swung her up on his shoulders. "Some things, I don't even know. Perhaps when we ascend, we can ask the Mother," he said wistfully, not thinking of Nuvie at all.  
  
(TMH pp.82-84) 


	9. The Only Son

Chapter 9 The Only Son  
  
Durc looked down in consternation at his spear. He had been working on a new one, but he knew he couldn't carve animals again. The men had been uncomfortable around it and he knew some blamed the spear on the last unsuccessful hunt.  
  
To Durc, carving had been something he had to do. The images in his head had been itching to come out. The bison, gray wolf, a mammoth, a porcupine, and strongest of all, the cave lion. He had been disturbed at his memories of these animals. Instinctively, he knew that the other men did not have the memories of these animals like he did.  
  
He was different, and he didn't like it. His features stood out against the normal clan looks. Secretly, he was glad that Broud was not around to call him 'Deformed One' anymore. All he wanted to do was to fit in with the rest of the Clan and have normal memories. Durc's thoughts turned to the woman he would meet next summer. Uba said that she is like me, but does she think like me also? Can she make sounds and bare her teeth when she is happy?  
  
His thoughts inevitably turned to mama. She had played sound games and laughed. His heart had felt better with mother, and free. Clan life was confining and he often had to be careful about making too many sounds or smiling.  
  
Durc could remember the day mama left. The former leader had cursed her because she stood up for the mog-ur. In his eyes, she had done nothing wrong. She also had not acted like a dead person. How could she talk to him and the others if she was a spirit? If I could see her and touch her, then why wasn't she real? A spirit didn't need mog-ur's tent or my cloak or a supply of food. But if she wasn't dead, then why did she leave me with Uba? Why didn't she take me with her? His thoughts turned over a well-worn track in his mind. He would never understand everything about his mama.  
  
"Durc, we hunt again in the morning. Will the new spear be ready?"  
  
He looked up at Brun who was acting as interim leader. "Yes, I am almost done," he signed.  
  
Brun nodded and left. Durc wondered again when a new leader would be named. He thought about each man, but none seemed to have the right qualities. Too bad Brun was old and Brac was too young. He looked up and saw Uba coming out of the cave with a basket with other women. No doubt she was going out to gather herbs. He walked over and offered to go with her.  
  
Uba looked up at her son and smiled. She hadn't wanted to go out alone, especially if that cave lion was still around. As Durc grabbed his old spear, the carved one, she frowned. Was it bad to have carvings on a weapon? She decided to ignore it for now and begin to search for the plants she needed.  
  
"What is this herb for again?"  
  
No matter how many times Durc asked, Uba was still surprised. No other man had ever asked her about plants she gathered. None of them other than her son ever gathered them. They didn't have the memories. He is like his mother, she thought to herself. Perhaps with the Others they pass down their gifts to both sons and daughters. I wish that she was still alive to see how Durc has grown.  
  
"That one is for aching joints, I use it for Vorn." She had told him a couple of times before. He didn't have the memories of healing, but he could remember what he wasn't born with. She often worried about the future of her different thinking son.  
  
"Uba, will you watch Ayla for a while?" Ona asked.  
  
She smiled at the girl and took little Ayla who was wrapped in a carrying cloak. Swift hands secured the toddler to her hip. For some reason, having her sister's namesake nearby brought her comfort. Ona left with a couple of the other women who were picking berries a few yards away. She had not yet mastered carrying the basket, picking berries and keeping eager hands out of the way.  
  
"Uba, what was the first Ayla like?"  
  
Uba rocked back on heels in shock. He had never asked before about his birth mother. What could she say? She wasn't supposed to speak of the dead. But he did ask a direct question.  
  
"She was different, mother said she was a medicine woman of the highest line, though she was born to the Others."  
  
"Was she really an Other? Why would the Clan take her in?"  
  
"Two earthquakes ago, the Clan had been traveling to find a cave. Mother found her lying on the ground near death. Brun told her to leave her, but she pleaded to take the child and care for her. Iza was a healer, and couldn't let any creature suffer if she could help. Your mother was the same way."  
  
"Uba," he paused, searching for the words," did mama fit in with the Clan? Was it ever hard for her?"  
  
She looked tenderly at her son, knowing his concern was not just for his mother. "She was tested many times. Her totem was not an easy one to live with. But she was named 'Woman Who Hunts' and was rewarded for her trials." Uba's voice became soft as she remembered her sister. "The Others must live a lot differently than us. She often was insolent to Br, er, our former leader. But she was a good daughter and the man of our hearth loved her as no other."  
  
"She must have had a powerful totem," Durc said, "I heard a rumor once, that she had been cursed many times. Is that true?"  
  
Uba felt goose bumps rise on her flesh and look around. Too much speaking of the dead might draw bad spirits to you. "Yes, the first time was when it was discovered she had been practicing with the sling. She was cursed with one moon's passing. The second time was right after you were born for a few days. And the last time was when she gave you to me."  
  
Durc knew that his mother was uneasy, but he wanted answers. He tried to approach the situation with more tact. "You said she was cursed about the time I was born. Did that have anything to do with me??"  
  
Uba looked up and nodded. He should know how precarious his first days had been. "We thought you were born deformed. Your mother did not want to dispose of you, so she ran away to a cave. Brun was very angry and would've lost face if he were forced to give in to a woman. Before the day that you had to be accepted, she returned and begged for your life. The mog-ur named you after her favorite legend, 'The Legend of Durc."  
  
He shivered. That had always been his favorite story, not just because his name was in it. How much alike was he to his mama?  
  
"I am glad she was wise and that I am here." He stopped motioning, allowing Uba to return to gathering. Durc knew that he had pushed the limits of acceptable conversation. But he was elated; each bit of information about his mama was as sweet as honey.  
  
Thonolan watched the young man carefully. According to the relationships of his people, Durc was related to him. In some ways he reminded him of Ayla, strong, wise and gifted. Other times he seemed fully clan and seemed like a stranger. The Mother wanted Durc woven into a great purpose. What was this purpose that he had with the Clan?  
  
The wind whispered through the trees and followed an invisible trail in the grass. Rising up, it blew across his ears. "He is the only son of the clan."  
  
oooooooooo  
  
Winter came early and had taken the clan by surprise. Many were not yet ready for the cold season and were ill prepared to last the winter in comfort. Brun felt the heaviness of leadership and dreaded winter for the first time. Always he had prepared the clan well in advance, but he had taken up leadership when the leaves had already started to turn. How many people would starve or die this winter? He worried about the older members, and he worried about the young. If only they didn't have so many to feed.  
  
Surveying the clusters of hearths, he again thought of who should be the next leader. Brac would be the logical choice now that he was a man, but he was young. He did not want to repeat the same mistake that he had done with the son of his hearth. Durc was strong and able, the Gray Wolf was a good totem for him. But could he learn to lead? After all, he is Her son. She would have been a good leader if she had been a man. He again weighed each member of the clan and again found them wanting. His choice would be either Brac or Durc. Though they were young, the need for a leader was greater. Brun doubted that he would last the winter himself. As leader would make sure there was food at every hearth before he would eat. He was getting older too. Though Uba gave him poultices and medicines, he still felt his age.  
  
Goov approached the leader, his thoughts along the same vain. Nodding, they headed to the back of the cave where Goov could convene with the spirits.  
  
"I think it will be either Brac or Durc. Each have strong and weak points."  
  
Goov nodded, "I will ask the spirits what they want." He began with the formal ancient language as he called the spirits together.  
  
Thonolan felt an eerie sensation and shivered. The clan spirits were gathering around them, and he wasn't sure what his purpose was. He felt uncomfortable around the foreign spirits, yet at the same time he felt at home.  
  
"This insignificant mog-ur has one request," Goov began motioning, "he would ask that the spirits help the clan make a choice. Our leader is no longer, and we need a new permanent one. This man would ask the spirits who the next leader should be." He continued his motions and then stopped. The datura he had drunk earlier was beginning to take affect. Slowly, Goov felt himself lose control over his body and sank to the floor.  
  
The spirits looked at each other with wise eyes. Ursus turned to Thonolan, "it is your responsibility to show him."  
  
"Me?" He gasped, "why would you need me to do this? I don't know what should be done."  
  
"You do know. Search your memories. The Mother has given you the responsibility to weave the threads." Ursus sat back and looked at him expectantly.  
  
Thonolan looked at them helplessly. Thinking back to when Creb was with him, he approached Goov's unconscious form. Kneeling beside him, he put his hand in his head and accessed his thoughts. Goov was traveling in a murky loamy place when Thonolan contacted him. He went through the mog-ur's memories of both men. But he still didn't know which one to guide him to.  
  
From somewhere, a breeze blew and caressed him. "Weave the threads. You've seen what must be."  
  
Suddenly, he recalled what had been revealed to him of the future. The choice was clear. Slowly, he guided the mog-ur's thoughts and showed him who would be the future leader. 


	10. Blind to Love

"Thonlin!" Brazie shouted. Heads turned as the girl greeted the handsome veejia. "I didn't know if you'd come back. How was the Clan?" She threw herself up as he caught her easily.

He laughed at her serious expression knowing she was aping her grandmother. "The Clan is doing better now that they may have a better leader soon. How are things at the camp?"

She grinned, "I have another new friend."

An eyebrow lifted. Who else could be coming here? "Tell me about him."

"Well he's tall and blonde, but not as handsome as you. I think he's quite powerful and he is so eager to hear about you and your sponsibilty." 

A cold chill raced down his spine, but he shook it off. Who could this new friend be? "I'd like to meet this friend. Where is he?" He asked as he scanned the camp.

"Oh, he doesn't come here. I go out and talk to him mostly. Great mother says that he's probably shy around so many of us here. Mamut had been searching, too. Oh! And I think Ranec likes Ayla, a lot." 

Thonolan groaned inwardly. He didn't want to have to deal with the situation. All the while he was gone, he had hoped that Jondalar had made his position clear. Obviously his big brother wasn't thinking with his brain again.

"You missed the hunt, too! It was so exciting, and Ayla chased the animals with Whinney. You have to be there next time, promise?"

He grinned at her innocent expression. "I will if I can. But I can't promise something I'm not sure that I can fulfill." 

"Brazie, for shame. Let the poor veejia have some rest before pestering him." Bectie came and collected the girl shaking her head. "Welcome back Thonolan, you've been missed." A smile quirked at the corners of her mouth.

Suddenly, Brazie became agitated. "He's here!" Scrambling away, she ran towards the hillside.

"What's that all about," he asked.

Bectie shook her head, "it's odd the way she's taken with that strange veejia. I don't know how she knows when he's here."

Curious, Thonolan followed Brazie. As he crested the rise, he spied the two forms. Brazie was animated and jabbered on about the camp. The veejia had his back toward him, but Thonolan would know him anywhere.

"Lumio," he whispered forlornly.

He must have heard Thonolan for his eyes turned and trained their steely gaze on him. Lumio got up and laughed. "I knew I'd see you again soon. I've just been passing the time with this little one." 

"You better not have hurt her," Thonolan warned. 

Lumio threw back his head as his rich throaty laughter was heard. "Why on earth would I hurt an innocent girl? It's not her I'm after."

"Then who are you after?"

"Don't you know yet?" He shook his head in mock disgust, "I don't know what the Mother thinks she's doing giving you such a responsibility. I'm going to enjoy watching you fail."

Brazie looked at her two favorite male veejias in confusion. Didn't they like each other? They laughed and talked but she sensed an underlying tension that made her afraid.

Fists clenched at Thonolan's sides. He would not fail in the important duty given to him, not even if it came to facing Lumio. "Since you don't intend harm to Brazie, then let her go back to the camp," he said with a touch of steel to his voice.

Lumio grinned and looked at Brazie, "do you want to go back to the camp, sweet?"

The girl looked in indecision between the two veejias. Lumio was smiling at her the way he always had, but Thonolan looked mad. Perhaps she should go back and let them talk. She nodded hesitantly at Lumio.

"Then you may go," he said with a warm smile, "but I would like to see you next time you come and we can talk more."

The two watched as the girl scampered quickly back to the camp. When she was out of sight, Thonolan rounded on Lumio. "What do you think you're doing with her?"

"Ah, just passing the time, she can be very informative. I hear that all is not well with your two charges? Perhaps they will not be woven together after all." He grinned knowingly.

"They will be just fine, it's not something you need to know about."

"But it is something that I am very interested in," Lumio ventured, "Ayla was once someone very important to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Ask Malia. No, ask Sela. I'm sure you can romance an answer from her. Sweet little thing, isn't she?"

Before he realized what he was doing, Thonolan pulled his arm back and let his fist fly. Abruptly, he found his arm locked in Lumio's steely grip, his taunting eyes leering at him. 

"Temper, temper. You don't really want to fight me, you know you'll lose." He threw Thonolan's arm away from him in disgust. "Besides, I don't fight fair. But next time I may not be so lenient." Stepping back, Lumio began to chant in a strange and eerie language.

Goosebumps broke out on Thonolan's flesh. Something evil was happening. "Stop it!" He shouted as he tried to approach the veejia. Something held him back and made his arms and legs feel like they were moving through mud.

Repeating the last refrain, Lumio threw up his arms heavenward. The words were carried away by a gust of wind and traveled toward the camp. Slowly, he lowered his arms and fixed his gave on Thonolan. "Now her chance at happiness will be very slim indeed." He laughed softly to himself and left a bemused and frustrated Thonolan in his wake. 

Thonolan watched helplessly as the enchanted whirled its way toward the camp. He sprinted to follow it; keeping an eye on the spell as it descended on the people. Swirling and weaving through the camp, it wavered over Ayla, but passed on. In a mighty rush it descended on Jondalar. Thonolan was sure the spell had gone awry and had overshot Ayla and landed on his brother, instead.

"No!" Thonolan said.

As the spell began to penetrate, it encountered a barrier. Unable to descend in complete potency, it entered where it could. Jondalar had been given a protective covering when the cave lion had breathed on him. 

Bectie had been watching the strange breeze as it blew around. "Thonolan, what is that?" She asked fearfully.

He looked at her and shook his head, "I don't know for sure. I think it was a spell to stop Ayla's happiness. But why would it be given to Jondalar?" 

She shook her head sadly, "don't you know the only thing that could take happiness from her forever?"

Suddenly, he realized what it was. "Oh Mother, what do I do now?"


	11. Earthy Mothers

Chapter 11 Earthly Mothers

Thonolan paced the hearth in agitation. "And do you know what he did in the valley?"

"Please calm down," Bectie cautioned.

"If what you say is true, then I will must forbid Brazie to continue seeing that veejia," Bruzec stated sadly.

Brazie had been listening covertly but had kept out of sight until now. "You can't forbid me! I like Lumio, he's nice. Thonolan was the one who started arguing with him."

"Brazie! Do you know what kind of veejia Lumio really is?" Bruzec's tone was laced with frustration and anger. "He is not One Who Serves the Mother, but One Who Serves Himself. There is no good end for veejias like that."

"How do you know? You've never met him," Brazie asked sullenly.

"And don't you think that's suspicious behavior?" Bruzec said, "if he had nothing to hide, he could come and be welcome here. But he knows that we would see what he really is. Brazie, for your own sake, please don't see him anymore."

Brazie's lower lip began to tremble. "But he's always been nice. How can he be a bad veejia?"

Bectie knelt down next to the girl. "Child, I know that you genuinely like him, but that's what he wants. Trust me, I've seen this happen before. You know that we have your best interest at heart and wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

Brazie's head slumped. "I know that. I will not go see him again." Tears formed and ran down her cheeks. Bectie embraced her in relief.

"Thonolan, thank you for alerting us. It's good to be aware of the danger," Bruzec said.

"He said something else that's been bothering me," Thonolan puzzled, "Brazie is not who he is after, but that Ayla was once dear to him. Yet when he chanted a spell, it was on Jondalar. I just don't understand it all."

"Who knows his real purpose? Can you trust what he said to you about that? Can you trust anything he says? Thonolan, you must focus on the purpose that the Mother has given you. If you dwell on the evil, it will come to nothing," Bruzec stated.

"You are right, of course," he conceded. Glancing through the camp, he spotted his brother working with flint. Mentally, he sighed. Where else would Jondalar be?

"I've go to show this to Dalanar! This is unbelievable!" Thonolan heard him exclaim.

Dalanar, how long has it been? Thonolan thought to himself. A pang of remorse touched him when he thought of home. Mother will never see me again on earth. Will she understand why? I never intended to return, but now I must to finish this journey.

Ayla sat quietly next to Jondalar and Wymez. The longing in Jondalar's voice to show Dalanar the new technique was unconscious on his part. 'She had never quite understood before just how powerful was his desire to return home...she knew that he could never be truly happy any other place.'

Thonolan sensed Ayla's conflict; the love of her son and the love of Jondalar.

"Ayla, he must go home. It's not only his longing and happiness, but also your future. You belong with the Zelondonii," Thonolan whispered as his gaze rested on the dark skinned man. If only Ranec were not here to cause conflict between them, he thought to himself. Surely the Mother would not allow anyone to come between them.

0000000000

Thonolan looked at the scene with frustration. "How blind can you be?" His voice rose in frustration.

"He is under a spell," Bectie said.

"I know, but it's so hard to watch him make a fool of himself. All of the camp watchers look at him with pity. I know where Ayla's heart is, but he seems to have forgotten."

The two watched as Ayla followed Ranec as he led her to his hearth. Thonolan sighed in resignation as the carver showed her his pieces.

"That is my skirt," Tala said from behind him.

Thonolan beckoned her to come stand with him. "You have come from a much different place. I don't think I've seen clothing made that way before." He admired the grass skirt and then spoke from his heart. "Tala, I don't like the way Ranec is with Ayla. He is not the one that the Mother has chosen for her."

Tala turned to him with arms folded. "How do you know that he is not the one for her? Has this Mother of yours told you? I thought she has only said to 'weave the threads." She folded her arms and glared at him. "Is it not possible that she wanted you to lead Ayla here? After all, the Zelondonii are far away. It's much too far for a woman to travel safely."

"No, I know that Jondalar is the one for Ayla. I've not been told in so many words, but I have no doubt that is what is to be. The future has been shown to me, and it includes them together." Thonolan did his best to stare down the intimidating woman. It was not easy to do. 

"Whether or not this is true, I cannot begrudge my son happiness." Tala unfolded her arms and seemed to relax slightly. "My first responsibility is to him and Wymez. The happiness of Ayla and Jondalar are secondary which is unfortunate for you. I'm sorry, but this is the truth for me."

Thonolan shook his head, "I know that your responsibility is great, but you don't know for sure what will bring happiness. Will Ranec be worse off in the end when Ayla leaves? You see how taken he is with Ayla, and they have not known each other long. Would it not be better to discourage this?"

"Thonolan, I admire your persistence, but I will not discourage him." Her voice became softer as she continued; "he is my only son. I want to give him as much happiness as I can."

Thonolan nodded, "I also admire you, Tala. I know that you have their best interests at heart, but I wish you would change your mind."

The two studied each other with measured respect. Both could not win in this battle of the heart. One would lose, and be the worse for it. Tala gave a brief nod and turned swiftly on her heel. As she strode away, Thonolan found himself accosted by another female.

"Get up, Oba." She lay prostrate before him.

The woman didn't move. Giving a frustrated sigh, he reached down and tapped her shoulder.

Oba looked up in excitement. This was too important to not use formal gestures. She began using the motions of the ancients.

Thonolan looked at her in perplexity. She was motioning something over and over. "This female, no woman... please, can't you use the everyday language?" He was having difficulty remembering what all of the symbols meant.

She stopped and hesitated. Then lifting her arms again, she began using the less formal language. "This insignificant woman would ask that Thonolan, highly favored by the Mother, would come quickly."

"Of course I will, what is so important?" He asked impatiently.

Excitement quivering with every move, Oba stood up and motioned, "She is here!"

(TMH p.166) 


	12. The Line of Women

Chapter 12

Thonolan watched as the woman shuffled off quickly before him. Curiosity mingled with agitation as he sighed and started off after her. Oba led him beyond the reach of the camp and over a crest of the hill. Coming to a sudden halt before a lone figure, she waited in anticipation to present him to the woman.

He furrowed his brow when he saw who waited for him. Schooling his features, he held his palms up and gave a wry half-smile. "I greet you, and am pleased to see you again."

Standing up, she held palms up, only her eyes communicated a silent message. Her greeting was cordial but restrained. "Thonolan, I greet you."

Oba looked up in confusion between the two. "You have met before?" Her brow furrowed as if remembering aspects of a story. Comprehension dawned bright in her eyes, "yes, at the cave, I remember now."

Thonolan saw Malia's head nod slightly at the shorter woman. "Why does she hold you in such esteem? When she came to me, I thought I was going to be introduced to the Mother herself."

A smile flickered in her eyes. "I suppose to some I may be seen as a powerful woman. Did you not know that the line of my family is a sacred one? We are healers and seers, callers and seekers, each endowed with special gifts from the Mother." Her eyes shrouded as if she no longer saw him, "and she exacts from each of us a high price for those gifts." Shaking away the cobwebs of memory she fixed her sight on the downcast form of Oba. "Our line and the one Iza was born to, were mingled once. Separated now by many generations, my line and the line Ayla was born into grows stronger while Iza's grows weaker."

Thonolan peered in amazement at Malia. Goosebumps rose on his veeja flesh, but the truth was felt in the quietness of his spirit. Somehow he had known that these women were powerful but refused to let himself see the power of their destinies. He felt a strange urge to prostrate himself at this woman's feet, to avert his gaze from the strength of her look. The vision changed and she was once again Malia, Ayla's Mother and fellow veejia, trapped between worlds.

Malia raised an eyebrow and extended her hand to him. "Yet for all of our destiny, we are, or, are mostly flesh and blood. Iza may well be the last of a truly powerful medicine woman in her line." She shrugged her thin shoulders as she continued. "But I thought that about Uba too, the one that Ayla's sister was named for. One thing is for certain. Each generation meets out a less powerful person. It's as if the Mother was re-directing the gifts to my line." She started to say something else, but stopped as she looked at Thonolan. Standing in front of Uba, she waited for the clan woman to look up. "You know, don't you?" Malia whispered

Uba's eyes flew wide in terror. Taking a step back she composed herself. Her eyes flicked to Thonolan in distress, then she returned her gaze warily to Malia.

"Yes, I think you do. That's why you brought him to me right away." The women exchanged looks, as if conversing by mere facial gestures. "But he cannot know yet."

The smaller woman's shoulders slumped slightly, then squared themselves again. "This woman is grateful to know the hidden knowledge as one so great. But this woman would like to know why that man should not know."

Malia glanced up at Thonolan, gauging his reaction. "He is not ready. The knowledge could very well mar his destiny. And besides, he's a man," she shrugged

Totally bewildered, the man in question looked in frustration between the two women. Catching the gleam in Oba's eyes, he was almost sure it was amusement. "Can't anyone tell me anything?" He asked in agitation.

Oba turned to him and lifted her eyes, fighting back her natural submissiveness. "Yes. This woman is pleased that you are a man." Lowering her head quickly, she ducked aside as Malia burst into violent guffaws of laughter.

He rolled his eyes at them and waited for Malia to sober. "I suppose if there is no secret to impart to me, perhaps you'd like to see Ayla again?"

She nodded eagerly brushing back tears and grinned at him. Squeezing his arm she raised her brows as if impressed by his biceps. "Yes, definitely a man." She let out a whoop and laughed.

Sorry this one is a little shorter, next one is longer, I promise. CassRae - so glad you've found ecfans. They do have excellent fics there. Check out the non-ec writing forum for some other fics that are just as wonderful. 


	13. A Tough Nut

Chapter 13 A Tough Nut

Eyes dancing with delight, she swayed to and fro. If ears could twitch and sing, hers surely would have at this moment. Brazie had plopped herself as near as she could to the music makers. Elbows propping up her torso, she didn't flinch when people stepped through her.

Bectie spared her a glance now and then, sometime censorious and other times indulgent. She also was rapt in a story that Talut was finishing.

Wrapped in the smell of pungent hearth fires and the basic smell of life, a surge on longing came over Thonolan. How often had his mother presided over such a night? The comfort of friendly faces, a full belly and a night of fun was almost the same here as it was at home. He half smiled to himself. Ok, so maybe he didn't have a full belly, but he could imagine one. Maybe all the faces were not friendly to him, but they were familiar. A piercing cry startled him out of his musings.

Barzec had begun the singing.

Brazie's eyes widened even more in delight. The sounds swirled to her and came over and through in a gust of pleasure. If she closed her eyes, perhaps she'd feel as if she had ascended.

As Fralie began to sing, Thonolan caught a look of pleased surprise on Bectie's face. "She remembers, after all," she murmured. The melodic words flung in the air seemed to create a picture, one of an unlucky woman. Fading into the smoke, they seemed to touch Crozie's tear streaked face.

"My daughter," Bectie said softly. She reached out her strong boned hand and stroked the woman's hair. Crozie looked around at the touch. Seeing nothing, she fixed her attention on the music once more. Bectie turned her misty gaze to Thonolan as she shrugged slightly. "Life has not been easy for her, or her family. I would wish to speak to her and impart words that would soothe, but can only watch."

They sat without speaking, letting the combined voices of singing wash over them. "The Mother," she continued, "she tests us. To see if we are worthy of her gifts. I fear that my daughter is not, and that in turn, I am not." Her voice took on a faraway tone and Thonolan realized she was no longer speaking to him.

"What makes a person worthy of the Mother's attention?" Bectie continued speaking, almost unaware that Thonolan was listening. "Surely it is not beauty or knowledge. For we both have shared in those gifts."

Thonolan smiled wryly. "Surely not those things."

Bectie smiled at him and was roused from her solitary musings. She nodded at the younger veejia. "Ayla now, she is highly favored. I think the Mother gives her gifts when she uses them for the Mother's purpose. She has lived a hard life, yet she is stronger for it, and perhaps that is what the Mother wishes for us all. To go stronger in life with the tests that she sets for us."

Thonolan gave a harsh laugh. If that was indeed true, then he had failed the Mother's tests. Bectie seemed to have read his mind and spoke softly to him.

"It's the harder tests that confuse us. Instead of thanking the Mother for giving us a chance to grow stronger and more gifted, many of us get mad at her." She paused and looked down ruefully at herself. "I may think myself wise, yet my thoughts are as important as smoke in comparison to the thoughts of the Mother." Her voice trailed off, as the music became more rhyme.

Thonolan felt as if he had seen inside a tough exterior of a walnut. A rare gift; to be granted with a vision of the sweet fruit inside that made up the existence of a being. The music increased in tempo and many began dancing. Yet he felt detached, viewing them as though from a distant cave. They were there, alive and content. If he wanted, he could touch them. But to touch them would break the spell of an enchanted moment.

(TMH pp. 175-177) 


	14. Broken in the Wind

Chapter 14 Broken in the Wind

Staring bemusedly at her back he wondered again at her aloofness. She was not displeased with his apparent lack of progress. No it was something else that held her shoulders stiff as a doe inspecting a copse. Their gazes met briefly and away as if pretending as if she had not seem the question in his eyes. They had danced together and apart for days and it was driving him crazy.

"So far they haven't gone any closer than conversation, but she is intrigued," he paused and studied the figure before him. Intrigued was only the beginning of his feelings for her. Swallowing quickly he continued, "but they'll probably winter here."

"Ah, that is a problem, then. Indoors with each other and they only have to glance across the lodge to..." Her voice trailed off as a blush crept up her neck. "But they love each other," she finished in a faint whisper.

"Sela, won't you..."

"And you did say that your brother was quite popular with women. Why wouldn't she want to stay with him?" She continued, ignoring Thonolan's interruptions, "they will go home together anyway, as the Mother has shown you."

"The Mother has not shown me everything," he replied not meaning his brother and Ayla. "We need to talk."

The sighed deeply then squared her shoulders. "Yes, I had hoped that we didn't have to but...yet, we must."

The two wandered outside heading in no particular direction. Their thoughts were not on comfort of place or safety for they had no need to worry of those things now. Distance and solitude drew them away.

"Look," she said suddenly in a hushed whisper. Large black beasts huddled against a lee in the riverbank against the chilly wind. Snow was flowing around and through them, but they paid it no mind.

Thonolan wondered briefly when he had accepted as fact the multitude of things that went through him. Not thoughts or emotions, but branches and leaves and always the unresting wind. Strange, he mused that his feet never sunk through the earth. He puzzled over this no longer than the wind that tarried through his presence. A greater puzzle took precedence in his mind - a woman.

At last she turned to him, golden hair floating with the breeze resisting its pull. Her luminous eyes searched his as if asking.

In answer, he spread his hands in supplication. "I don't understand it myself, what it is when I see you. Like a man who has had nothing but dried meat and berries all winter yearns for fresh and tender morsels, that is how I feel when I see you. And yet," he turned away slightly, "another face imposes itself on me and then the winter comes again." His face worked in restrained thought, "is it wrong?" he rasped, "Neither of us are bonded by human bonds, and I don't know yet what otherworldly codes we have before us. We are at a cross point of existence. Does it matter what we do?"

A question answered with a question is always hard to answer. "To the people we watch, to the Mother herself," she paused to look fixedly at him, "yes it matters what we do here. But as to catching a little enjoyment while we're here, I am not sure. But pleasures are a gift from the Mother and can't believe that she would forbid it." She smiled slightly, "if we were alive in human form I doubt we would think so much of it. We probably would have found a quiet place out of the way long ago." She ducked her head to hide another blush. "As it is now, everything has changed, but emotions still run deep."

Gently he touched her arm. "Sela, yes. I..."

A frantic calling cut him off. Whirling about, they watched as Malia raced toward them. "They are coming! Quickly, to beast!"

She dropped down beside them in an ungainly plop of hooves and heaving flesh. Sela quickly followed her mother and gave Thonolan raised eyebrows.

Slightly annoyed at the interruption, he also changed himself to mirror the beasts near them. Slowly the three sidled closer to the herd. A wiley cow narrowed her eyes at them but let them stay nearby. She kept a watchful gaze on them as she huddled the few beasts together for warmth.

The world seemed warm and much larger as he eyed the terrain with his large bull eyes. A faint sound of drums startled him slightly. The younger cow, Sela touched his nose to calm him. Instinct made him want to bolt, but he pulled the vestiges of himself together. Inside the skin of the large beast he felt the sheer muscular power and unconscious animal instincts. The two females near him eyed him warily.

"Zzzlloooow heeerrr." The eerie voice broke through the wind of the storm. A prickling of hairs at his back told him what he knew already. Mamut was on the move.

(TMH p. 183) 


End file.
